


Pure joy

by hapworth



Series: Translations [3]
Category: The Heretic Doms Club - Marie Sexton
Genre: Fluff, Introspection, M/M, Romance, Spoilers, post Terms of Service
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-19
Updated: 2019-12-19
Packaged: 2021-02-25 22:27:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,345
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21852922
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hapworth/pseuds/hapworth
Summary: Winter had arrive and, with it, the pleasant use of their huge fireplace in the living room. River felt grateful every day to have a person like Phil at his side, someone who understood him and didn't him with words and inadequacy.
Relationships: Phil Manderson/River McKay
Series: Translations [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1163063





	Pure joy

**Author's Note:**

  * A translation of [Pura gioia](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21839467) by [hapworth](https://archiveofourown.org/users/hapworth/pseuds/hapworth). 



> Aaaaand I'm here again, with another translation to my work. I love so much this book and this pair, but my English is too simple. But! I tried again to do this, because Phil and River are too beautiful and I love them.  
> Have a good reading!  
> hapworth
> 
>  **Note:** the final sentence in italics is taken from _Terms of Service_.

_\- because the life is too short to settle -_ **  
**

Winter had arrive and, with it, the pleasant use of their huge fireplace in the living room. River felt grateful every day to have a person like Phil at his side, someone who understood him and didn't him with words and inadequacy. He still had a lot of work to do on himself to ward off the negative thoughts and old habits that – inconsciously – had remained on him because of Terrence and his behavior that was anything but disinterested; but he had no intention of ruining the Christmas season thinking of all that his ex-husband had taken from him without even realizing it.

Phil, on the other hand, was continuing to explore that strange limbo made up of days when their relationship was classified as _holidays_ and that yellow, which was now almost the rule when he came home and found his lover waiting for him. The red had not been used for months now, not since they had to let Joan passed away.

His companion loved that horrible cat, but he understood it; he too had learned to love her, although they had lived in the same house only a few months – excluding the initial period of his relationship with Phil.

The fire crackled, illuminating the large living room that also served as an entrace and living area; it was a small house, but suited to their needs and that future they begun to shape together after having decided to leave Denver to move closer to Popos, Phil's springtly grandfather who, despite his age, continued to be full of desider to fish and stay with them during the warmer evenings. Having started the winter, they had wisely decided to visit him directly at the Mountain Vista Estates, so that he wouldn't get cold or risk seasonal illnesses; he was in good health, but still old and deserved those little precautions.

Precisely for that reason River lately, when he returned from work, he rarely found Phil at home: he was at Pops bringing him a hamburger or, perhaps, talking a bit about the things they would to do at Christmas.

River had just come out of the bathroom, when the front door closed with a light thud; he smiled inconsciously, waiting to see his companion move foward and then kneel in a natural way.

“Hi.” he greeted him, his face turned to the floor, while the brief caress under his chin and the kiss on his head gave him permission to recover. “Hi.” the man replied with a smile; eyes clear of heat, despite having met his gaze.

The hand tied to his was a clear indication that this was a quiet day, probably yellow, in which Phil would have allowed him freedom and calmness.

“I... took something.” Phil said after a few moments of silence, nodding toward the entrace. He didn't see well, because they hadn't yet turned on the lights: River liked the light-darkness of the crackling fireplace and Phil certainly understood it, because he tended to indulge it.

River moved forward, his hand still in the other man's, but as soon as the took a step he made him understand what he had brought home. Attached to the door was a cage and, inside, a orange and cream kitten. He stood the corner of the cage too bigh and trembling.

River's eyes softened as the tightened his lover's hand; Phil said he didn't want to catch more cats after Joan, probably driven by the mourning for the feline with whom he had shared seven years of his life. And yet there he was: a kitten who was cold, already wrapped in what he suspected was one of the spare sweaters that Phil carried on in his work.

“He was the only one left on the litter.” he vaguely remembered Phil telling him that one of his student at the photography course had a pregnant cat; he hadn't given it much weight, but that kitten didn't surprise him, not even a little.

Phil was able to love very much, although he didn't express it in words, but the photos that were hanging on the wall were a testimony of how much he could give to others, to whom he was important to him.

One of Joan Clawford's last photos remained between them and River never excluded its, because its was aware of how important it was to Phil. “And do we already have a name?”

The slightly flirtatious tone peeked out from River without even the slightest bit of warning and Phil laughed, the gentle look and the still present grip in their warm hands. “I was thinking of Julius Clawford.” River snorted a laugh. “Another of the Clawford lineage, then?”  
“Why not?” River chuckled again, before leaning on his companion's shoulder; he was taller and more robust than Phil, but it was something he liked to do, lean on him. It was a gesture he had appreciated since man had allowed him those freedoms, that gentle and intimate contact, just like holding hands. “Juli.” River called, pulling his hand from Phil's and bending to open the cage.

The kitten mewed, but it looked more like a peep, before he hit the outside and smelled the air; he put the back of his hand in front of his face and the kitten sniffed, brushing it with the pink damp nose. He would have laughed again, but instead he kept his smile softened.

He was little more than his hand, but he purred against it, before continuing on his way, probably curious to explore the rest of the environment. Small steps, on shaky paws, but he would surely have become a beautiful proud cat, River hadn't doubts about it.

He turned his gaze to his shoulders, finding Phil where he had left him with sweet and lost expression he was looking at. “It went better for you than me, I was bitten.” the man admitted and River stood up, shaking his head slightlu. “He'll probably make us suffer. We must to pull out Joan's old things...”

Phil nodded, a slight shadow over his eyes but he left immediatley. It was clear how much he missed that animal, but the fact that he had brought another, meant that he was ready for a new beginning, yet another, with him. “Hey.” he called back, stroking his cheek gently.

Phil squinted, resting his face against his broad chest and sighing briefly. “It was time.” he admitted and River touched his blonde hair with his fingertips. “Hm.”

After a few moments of silence and stillness, Phil detached himself slightly, then reached out to explore his jaw. The fingertips that, gentle, covered the surface slightlu rough for the regrowth, with abundance. “You know, River...” he began and, even before he went on, he knew Phil would say something intimate and difficult to express. Phil was like that; he couldn't be natural, to say things at the right moments, blocked by his sense of emotional powerlessness that he probably carried with him always and that had only taken shape then, with the end to his relationship with Rory. “I always thought that you had a beautiful smile. It's... there's the sun in your smile.”

River held his breathm feeling his cheekis turn red. He knew how Phil felt about his happines; he considered it more important than anything between them. He had never reproached him for being happy even without him, when he was fishing, when he felt happy at his parents' house or chopping wood; Phil adored him, loved to see him happy and in that admission, his way of _seeing him_ embarassed, but at the same time made him understand the real importance he had for the man he loved. Even if he didn't say it, even if it was difficult,even if their story hadn't started in a conventional way and it wasn't even in that moment.

River felt gratefully every day, because he was happy.

“ _Don't apologize for being happy, River.  
__Not with me. Nor with anyone else.”_


End file.
